


Watching you

by LillilX



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillilX/pseuds/LillilX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rollo's been watching Athelstan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching you

  
  


Athelstan knew he had it coming. He had seen it in his face, his body language and in his eyes, in the way he always stared at him. Rollo’s eyes were dark by nature, not only by the color itself but the misty shadows within, a reflection of a tormented soul. Those eyes were always on him, in battle or feasts, even when Ragnar’s brother was so drunk he couldn’t talk coherently anymore and deep inside, Athelstan just knew what it meant. He knew how deep was Rollo’s envy towards Ragnar buried and the meaning of the stares. It wasn’t just a matter of desire of the flesh, it was a branding, a statement, as meaningful for Rollo as painful for him.  
  
It was late and dark when he heard him outside, careful footsteps trampling on the wooden floor. Athelstan knew that walk as well as he knew Ragnar’s but Rollo was heavier and so were his steps, making the wood ache. Athelstan covered himself with the sheets, trying not to make a sound and trying to remember if he had locked the door but the answer came when it opened and those heavy steps got in. The door closed again, almost without noise and Athelstan felt his heart racing, because he was almost sure of the bear-man intentions. Even though he wanted to stay just like that, he took the sheets off and looked right at Rollo who stood there, just staring.  
  
-Rollo –he said, trying to remain still.  
He didn’t know what Rollo wanted exactly but it frightened him. He surely suspected of his intentions but he didn’t know how far things would go, because as far as he knew, Rollo only enjoyed the company of women but again, he didn’t understand how deep he envied, how deep he cared.  
  
-I want to feel it –said Rollo, obviously drunk.  
-Feel what? –Athelstan asked, eyeing his dagger on the nightstand. It was too far away and Rollo near enough to stop his attempt. Even if he had the weapon in hand, thinking about defending himself from Rollo was almost laughable.  
  
Rollo moved forward, looking at him despiteful but eagerly and Athelstan felt afraid. He had seen that man splitting heads open, amputating body members as easy as slicing a bread loaf. He didn’t stand a chance, for whatever was on the Viking’s mind, Athelstan didn’t stand a chance.  
  
-I want to know why my brother’s so obsessed with you, priest. What have you done to him? How is it that you’ve got him eating by your hand? –said Rollo, walking towards him, so close Athelstan could smell him, of ale and rain. He was a big man, so tall that he would surely crush him, because unlike Ragnar, he wasn’t going to be gentle, he didn’t give a fuck about him-. What is it, Athelstan? –he asked again, mocking his name- What did you do to him? I want to feel it–he grabbed him by the hair, Athelstan whimpered.  
-N-nothing –he stammered, trying to get him to let go but Rollo’s hand was firm, his gaze intense- I didn’t…  
-So, what do you do when he comes to you at night? Huh? –the Viking asked, still pulling his hair.  
-What? –asked Athelstan, afraid. It was true that Ragnar could not wait sometimes and went to him when everyone else was asleep but he had not think of anyone noticing. Apparently, he was wrong-. We… We talk…  
-Nice try –Rollo said with a sadistic smile before turning him over violently but Athelstan wouldn’t take it, not without a fight. He quickly turned again and pushed Rollo as hard as he could, then running to the other side of the room, taking his dagger with him.  
  
Rollo laughed and put himself together, looking at him with anger, and joy.  
  
-Come on, priest. You can’t fight me. Not even in your wildest dreams –he laughed and Athelstan attacked but Rollo skipped it easily, laughing even harder but then, suddenly, he stopped- It’s better if he doesn’t find out –he whispered with a smirk and took another two steps.  
  
Athelstan walked quickly to the door, holding his knife high to protect himself but Rollo just smacked him across the face, which was enough to make him stumble and just like that, the Viking took the dagger off his hand and grabbed him by the shirt. Athelstan fought, of course. He tussled, aiming punches at him, groaning and struggling but it was a fight he couldn’t win. He felt fear building inside him, so quickly it made it feel sick and then there was pain and Rollo wasn’t even started. He tossed Athelstan on the bed and pinned him down but soon enough he found out it wasn’t going to work like that. Athelstan fought him back, trying to escape using his hands and knees, so Rollo turned him over again, resting his whole body weight on him as he laid between his legs.  
  
-Don’t do this! –Athelstan said, trying to put sense into the viking’s head. Rollo looked at him with lusty, yet angered eyes-. You don’t want to do this, Rollo! I know you!  
-This is not a matter of wanting –Rollo whispered, ripping apart his pants so easily like taking a flower from a tree. Athelstan fought him again, trying to punch him and Rollo laughed, pinning his wrists so hard the poor priest whined.  
-Please… –he begged, feeling Rollo’s enormous bulge rubbing against him.  
-Shut up, Christian!  
-I am not… -Athelstan stammered and Rollo stopped, looking at him warily.  
-You’re not what? –he asked, his huge hands resting on Athelstan’s milky inner thighs, spreading them apart.  
  
Athelstan wanted to say it, because he knew that if he did, Rollo might stop but he couldn’t deny his heart still belonged to Christ, even when he was seriously starting to doubt his faith and embrace the pagan’s, even when he already considered himself one of them. He sighted, bewildered and scared, and Rollo laughed again, spreading his legs further apart and using saliva to lubricate Athelstan tense slit. The priest snivelled and Rollo smiled widely, toothy like a wolf’s deathly smirk.  
  
-This is not about pleasure, priest –he said, as he pushed his cock inside him. Athelstan cried out of pain and Rollo covered his mouth with a hand, stopping for a second just to finally go through it completely-. It’s about pain.  
  
Athelstan cried. It wasn’t a pain like no other and yet less intense than his crucifixion, but instead of hurting his hands and feet, Rollo was hurting deep inside. He closed his eyes tightly and bit his lower lip, trying to breath beneath the viking’s hand, sobbing quietly while Rollo moved softly, letting out grunts of discomfort, obviously too big for Athelstan’s tightness. Pain only increased in the next moments and Athelstan felt he was going to pass out or bleed out because he was sure Rollo was really hurting his body, but he endured, fisting the sheets under them, trying to figure out what to do to make the pain go away, trying to remember a pray that could help him.  
  
But soon enough the pain started to decrease, as Rollo’s thrusts grew tough. Athelstan sobbed even more and Rollo’s hand tightened over his face, making it hard to breath but easier to hide the unexpected moan that was starting to build up in his throat. He opened his eyes when Rollo started pounding rough, moaning, hitting that soft spot he had discovered and enjoyed only with Ragnar and then realized Rollo was watching him, his eyes filled with pleasure and dark enjoyment. He tried to fight again, hitting Rollo in the face, a hard slap that made the Viking growl and go faster. Athelstan kept beating him, trying to keep it quiet because somehow he, as Rollo, didn’t want Ragnar to find out.  
  
The Viking just laughed at him and firmly trapped his wrists against the mattress, stopping him for good. Then he remained still and looked fiercely at Athelstan, deeply into his eyes, making him feel confuse and overwhelmed. The pain was slowly going away and being replaced with something Athelstan knew but refused to acknowledge. It was on that moment of hesitation that Rollo started to fuck him harder, so violently Athelstan had to bite his lip to the point of tasting his own blood. The Viking stopped and got out of him, only to grab him firmly and turning him over. Athelstan cried out of pain when he slapped hard his ass and then penetrated him again, moaning harshly, breathing shakily.  
  
He couldn’t think anymore, his head was filled with a confusing fog, wrapped in pain, anger, shame and joy. He grabbed the end of the mattress when Rollo thrusted hard, and whimpered without even noticing when he closed his right hand on his hip and the left around his neck. Rollo was heavy above him and his body was wet in rain and sweat, his skin smooth and hot. Athelstan thought he could die if Rollo squeezed him harder but suddenly it didn’t matter anymore, because all his attention was on trying to cover up his own wailing. His pleasure was something that he could no longer hide even when he tried his best, and when Rollo embraced his waist and angled him better, pushing his head against the mattress, he couldn’t restrain himself anymore.  
  
He came so hard his gaze went to black for a couple of seconds and Rollo followed him close, filling him up with the two, quick final thrusts, remaining buried deep inside him afterwards and resting his head between the priest’s shoulders. Athelstan’s arms collapsed since Rollo was leaning completely on him and he fell on the bed, making the Viking react and pull out. The priest turned over to see the brother of his lover rising, looking even more intoxicated than before. He pulled up his pants in silence and Athelstan couldn’t see his face, it was covered in shadows but even though he didn’t see his eyes, he was sure he was being watched.

  



End file.
